Sail Across The Sun
by EleanorLilyPotter
Summary: "Dave had sledgehammered is way into Kurt's life, had plastered himself to the raw walls of Kurt's heart and now, in a sudden move that was at the very least immensely rude, he had refused to let himself be removed." Kurtofsky. Second sequel to ALSWLR.
1. Like A Lady Tied To Her Manners

**Author's Notes:** Why I keep fooling myself into thinking that I'm able to write plotless, smutty one-shots is a question for the ages.

But never mind that.

Unlike my first sequel, this one is still being written, but I had to start posting because the re-editing was driving my procrastinating ass crazy.

I'm going for something shorter (hopefully), about three chapters long (I consider that progress) with the first two being all-plot (as plot-y as you'll consider this, anyway) and the third one being 90% shameless porn.

Only dialogue for this one, I'm afraid, but bear with me – or just skip it altogether; God knows I've indulged myself enough by writing it.

* * *

><p>"I've been thinking."<p>

"Hang on."

"… well, that's a little rude."

"Okay, I've got them first-aid kits and multi-hazard contingency plans. Fire away."

"Ah. You're _hilarious_. Maybe I should hang up and go laugh myself stupid somewhere else. With sharp and pointy blades, preferably."

"Once a Boy Scout, always a Boy Scout. Forever prepared, Fancy."

"Oh, stop. You're killing me. _Please_ stop."

"You're laughing on the inside, I know. Deep down."

"I'm sure. Am I allowed words now?"

"Go on, I'm ready for you."

"Let's just take that out of context for a minute, shall we?"

"… you've been watching porn again, haven't you?"

"Only a lot. It's definitely interesting, once you get past the obviously fake screeching and the awful lighting and the _lines_. Oh my god, Dave, you wouldn't believe the lines."

"Got a pretty good idea, actually."

"How can you _like_ it? There's always at least one attention whore who'll keep making eyes at the camera. It makes me feel all perverted and disgusting."

"You're a bit of a perv, but you're anything but disgusting, baby."

"Started off disastrously, closed the deal with a golden key. My boyfriend, ladies and gents."

"I'd curtsy if it wasn't so _gay_."

"Yes, it would definitely put a damper on your reputation. I don't think my dad would even let us see each other anymore."

"'Cause I might turn you, right?"

"Well – _sweet spring sales_, what are they even doing with that cheetah?"

"You're watching it _now? _Wait. Should I be freaking out over exactly what kind of porn you've been watching?"

"It's a stuffed cheetah, Dave, god. But don't ask me what it is that they're doing with or _to _it, because I keep seeing them shuffling around and poking it and – _oh_."

"Don't tell me, Jesus, I don't really want to know, why can't you watch normal porn like everybody else, goddamnit, Fancy –"

"Oh, _oh_. I see. It's a sort of jungle role-play. With a_ cheetah_. Seriously, is it that hard to do a five-minute fact check on Wikipedia?"

"Maybe Walmart was out of Bagheeras?"

"I believe they're called panthers, David. Funny enough, I thought the scrawny guy might be incontinent, but turns out he's an ersatz Mogli. Also, is there such a thing as normal porn?"

"_Yes_. I'll link it to you, okay? Just turn that thing off, or I'll never be able to look Alex's Baloo in the eye again."

"He is your _sister's_, is he."

"… shut up. He was Em's first of all."

"That is incredibly sweet. Reminds me that your mother still owes me a private showing of your baby pictures."

"Yeah, I kinda might have told her you hate babies."

"…"

"Okay, so I didn't. But you'll get nothing like Finn's naked reveal, just so you know."

"You're not about to tell me you were the only baby in the world who _didn't_ think of pants as a criminal offense, are you? Even I wasn't entirely sold on the idea."

"'S not like you have to resort to baby pics to seem me without pants, Fancy."

"Isn't it?"

"What?"

"Yes, what."

"I – did you get the link?"

"And this is why your mom and I are such good friends. We're practically a support group."

"Huh?"

"'Get Through To Dave Karofsky Without Unwittingly Committing First-Degree Murder'."

"… whatever."

"Yes, I did get your link. Is there any reason why one of the guys in the first video looks like a bland, tasteless, wormy version of a nowhere-nearly-as-fabulous me?"

"He's kinda hot. Nice moaning."

"Oh, _please_. He sounds like he's having his wise teeth pulled out through his nose and getting off on it. And did you not notice the alarmingly large mole just bellow his right shoulder blade?"

"… it's a _freckle_."

"I'm sure you'll still look every bit as attractive in your new, badly needed corrective lenses. And his nose is crooked. And what is it with those_ ears_; does he need them for smother landings? Do they even have standards when casting these people?"

"I'm going out on a limb here and say you might sound a little bit jealous."

"Me. Jealous. Of… _that_."

"Some people might get that idea."

"You like the moans, do you?"

"_Baby_…"

"He does sound professional. Maybe you'd rather have him saying –"

"See, I still think they're cute, these crazy-ass tangents of yours. As if I'd give a tenth of a fuck for the guy with you in the room. Just sitting there on the edge of that ratty fuck-up of a couch, with your notepad and your fake granny glasses, taking down every wrong move."

"So you'd rather watch me covered from head to toe, standing still and saying nothing, over watching Sir Groan-A-Lot do one more of his acrobatic naked stunts?"

"Every day of every fucking week of every goddamn month of –"

"Come over and I'll kiss you."

"Sounds nice."

"And other things. Although it's probably for the best if I go over to _your_ house later. Finn is always around these days."

"Better still. Hey, aren't you turning it off?"

"No, I'm researching."

"_W-what_?"

"'How Not To Act When Acting'. Porn is very edifying in respect to that, especially the free of charge kind. I've managed to find some diamonds in the rough, but they're few and far between, and I get bored easily."

"One of these days I'll get you to watch one with me, no notepad, granny glasses or _research_."

"What else would we be watching it for?"

"I don't know, getting off maybe? I hear people do weird stuff like that while watching porn, go figure."

"But I have you for that."

"Always, baby. And you look hot in those glasses, anyway."

"Please. You think I look hot in anything."

"True story."

"My ego thanks you, but I'm getting concerned over its size. It will have to deflate one day."

"Nah, like you big."

"… my ego?"

"Your dick."

"…"

"Cute squeak. And yet just the other day you were practically jerking me off under the dining table."

"You kept groping me!"

"I had my hand on your _knee_ for, like, five seconds before you started molesting me in front of my family."

"They didn't notice, did they? They were the sweetest to me. Do tell your mother that that rustic summer-vegetable casserole was divine."

"Yeah, I'm really gonna go to her and say 'Mom, your casserole was like, _divine_'."

"You're hopeless."

"Doesn't that make you a lil' bit of a masochist for liking it?"

"Actually, I love it."

"… so, about that thing you're thinking about?"

"David, we should talk–"

"Alex won't stop yapping about whatever you did to her hair last week. You should come shut her up."

"Dave, I'm serious, I need to –"

"And Em's coming to town in less than two weeks. She's more excited about meeting you than seeing her own _brother_ again.

"Don't think I don't see what you're doing there. Fine. Your loss."

"Kurt –"

"I can't wait to meet her, too. And tell Alexis I'll come by tomorrow, if she's not busy."

"She's twelve and on summer break, how is she gonna be busy? Wait, shit."

"What?"

"My mom wants me to take her to the mall tomorrow. She hates driving on her day off."

"So? I hardly think she wouldn't trust me alone with your sister."

"Yeah, but _I_ won't be there."

"And…?"

"_Really_? Fancy, come on."

"I enjoy your sister's company very much. She is incredibly mature for her young age."

"Yeah, but you can't make-out with her. Shit, _fuck_, gross!"

"You brought it on yourself. And there's more to life than making out."

"You're shitting me. There's _more_?"

"You're incredibly spirited today."

"Maybe I'm in a good mood."

"What happened?"

"Well, I'm talking to you, so bonus."

"Stop it, you know I can't stay mad at you when you start being sickeningly sweet."

"Why the hell would you be mad at me for?"

"You know _why_."

"Nope. No idea."

"You're insufferable."

"You _like_ it."

"No, I don't. I lo –"

"And Az PM'ed me on Facebook last night to tell me he'd seen us with Brit and Santana at the Lima Bean and that if I had something to tell him then I should really fucking come out and say it. Something about me stopping to be such a secretive asshole to my best friend."

"Oh my god, _really_? Do you think he – I mean, of course he suspects, what am I saying, but –"

"Either that, or he thinks I'm into some really kinky four-way stuff."

"Dave, that's wonderful! Unless I'm reading into it all wrong and he's preparing to give you a summer slushie-special."

"Yeah, I've been kinda worried about that, too. But I guess he'd just de-friend me right away or some shit, right?"

"We're foraying into straight guy territory, David. Need I remind you of my previous experience in that area?"

"… right."

"You should call him… maybe? Or text him, if you're that nervous."

"Shit. I don't know. It'd be really fucking awesome if he was okay with all this."

"It really would. And he sounds angrier at you for _not_ telling him rather than for what you have to tell him."

"That's good, right?"

"I do believe so, yes."

"Wanna hold my hand while I call him?"

"I won't even mock you for that because it sounds like you're only half-joking. Do you want me to be there?"

"… no. Gotta man-up, right? But…"

"Yes?"

"Could you come over after?"

"Of course. Text me and I'll be there."

"Awesome. Thanks. I'll just… now, okay?"

"Let me just get dressed and I'll be right over."

"W-what?"

"House clothes, David. I don't usually parade around naked while answering the phone."

"Pity that."

"I'm sure. Actually, that sort of ties in with what I wanted to – no, forget it, I'll talk to you later."

"Huh, okay. See you, baby."

"Ugh."

"Kurt?"

"Right, right, I'll see you later then, bye. Have to go, bye."

"And then _I_'m rude."

"…"

"Maybe I'll just send him a Farmville cow. That ought to mellow him up a bit."

"…"

"…"

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2#: **Next chapter we're getting a surprise guest. Who's excited? I'm _excited._


	2. Where All My Thoughts Go Hiding

**Author's Note:** Yep, four chapters _at least. _It's like I've never met_ me. _Still, I really hope you enkoy it, despite the lack of sexy times.

* * *

><p>"Hi, Kurt."<p>

"I _miss_ that. Why do I miss that?"

"Memories?"

"Fond ones, yes. And I miss all the wooing. Now you just manhandle me everywhere."

"You didn't sound like you minded being manhandled all that much yesterday."

"Mm-hmmm, might be. Did Azimio text you back yet?"

"Nah. Think he's playing hard to get."

"… should I be worried?"

"What?"

"Well, you were always very close."

"So?"

"Hmm."

"… _dude_."

"Just checking."

"I don't even – _Az_? You – I – Okay, gonna take a while till I get past that."

"I'm here for you, David."

"Fuck you. Hey, why didn't you wait for me today?"

"Since I'd gone to your house to meet your _sister_, I figured it would be rude to make it seem like I was only killing time, waiting to see you."

"But I do that all the time."

"_Dave_…"

"What?"

"Nothing. Miss you."

"Yeah, me too, wasn't that the whole point? And why are you whispering?"

"I just – I _really_ miss you."

"Hmm. Wanna come by later?"

"As in for dinner 'later' or… _later '_later'?"

"Dinner."

"Oh."

"And then _later_."

"_Oh_."

"My bed's starting to smell like you."

"… I'm sorry?"

"Why? I'm not."

"I lo–"

"Love you, baby, gotta go now, mom's screeching."

"Wha– no, that's not fair!"

"…"

"I know exactly what you're doing, just FYI."

"…"

"Hmpf."

"…"

"…"

* * *

><p>Kurt Hummel had a problem.<p>

Note that Kurt Hummel was not a stranger to problems in general. From getting red dye number six stains off of his cream velvet carding to ensuring his father and step-brother never had free reign when it came to grocery shopping, you could say Kurt Hummel knew his way around problems. He knew problems, and he dealt with them – he was dating his reformed former bully, for Liza's sake. However, there were problems Kurt Hummel hadn't learned to deal with yet – and there was a particular one he was often completely baffled by.

Kurt couldn't stop touching his boyfriend.

That wouldn't, in itself, be a problem; Dave _was_ his boyfriend, after all, and always seemed more than willing to let Kurt put his hands all over him. Nevertheless, Kurt worried.

Kurt was _not_, as a rule, a touchy-feely person. He recognized fully that he had a bit of trouble with letting people into his personal bubble, and there were still very few people whose spontaneous touch he welcomed, or even tolerated.

Then Dave.

He didn't merely welcome Dave's touch: he _craved_ it.

And that was a predicament for which he was not prepared, even though Kurt Hummel was always prepared.

Kurt Hummel had learned on the very first day of his freshman year that he would need to bring not one, but _two_ spare outfits if he planned on getting through the day with his dignity intact.

Kurt Hummel knew that if one must, one should always choose to be _over_dressed.

All in all, Kurt Hummel was not the type to be caught unawares – not when it came to himself. He took pride in knowing his own reactions, his own mind, his designed path in life.

Then _Dave_.

Dave didn't fit in his life. Dave had sledgehammered is way into Kurt's life, had plastered himself to the raw walls of Kurt's heart and now, in a sudden move that was at the very least immensely rude, had refused to let himself be removed.

Well.

Not that Kurt had given it his best, as of late. Au contraire, it was as if his own heart – his traitorous, shameless, good-for-nothing bundle of contradictions of a heart – had chosen to let itself be conquered by little more than a gorgeous smile and sweet whispers.

It was if his whole being had wrapped itself around Dave and swallowed him whole – and that was invariably the point when Kurt stopped himself, because that particular line of thought made his head hurt and his mouth run dry. He was better off with pure, clean thoughts that had nothing to do with Dave and swallowing. How bold he had become with his own sexuality still made him blush from time to time, which led him to call his boyfriend, in order to make himself get over it already.

He couldn't very well talk to Mercedes – who was still on the fence about the whole Kurt/Dave debacle – or Rachel – who was practically Finn by extension, who, in turn, was Kurt's _father_ by extension – about his sexual awakening, and he had been wary of talking to Blaine every since the other boy's pressing for details had become, dare he, _obsessive_.

So each and every one of his uncertainties lead to Dave-time, which in turn lead to Kurt sneaking out at the craziest hours to break into his boyfriend's bedroom, with full consent of said boyfriend. Dave's mother having secured two months of morning shifts and Dave's sister having joined a total of five summer clubs seemed to them nothing short of an encouraging miracle.

Kurt knew he was getting spoiled – and then Dave had come up with a marvelously wicked plan to go pick up Kurt in his own car, which cleared up the problem of getting the Navigator back home at dawn. Kurt made sure to always lock his own door, and to storm into the garage later in the day whining about how Dave never had time for him, not now that Coach Beiste had installed summer practice for her team. His father always smiled condescendingly and patted Kurt's shoulder with a "Well, you're very young, you have all the time in the world, son" and Kurt would roll his eyes and storm back out, all the while performing an intricate mental cheer to the deviancy of one Kurt Hummel.

Sometimes guilt would threaten to consume him, though; the thought of his dad waking up in the middle of the night with his son nowhere to be found was a constant source of anxiety at the back of his mind.

But slowly waking up in Dave's arms, watching as a thin stripe of sunlight flickered over his boyfriend's closed eyelids and made him frown in his sleep was simply too glorious to be missed. And he always made a point of leaving a note on his pillow every night he dared leave his room; in the catastrophic possibility of his dad getting wind of his misdoings, his heart would be spared a few unnecessary beats.

Kurt could well imagine the panicky but vague concerns that took over Burt Hummel from time to time. It had all become quite clear when his dad instated movie night on Saturdays, insisting that now that the boys were on vacation there was no reason to whine about losing valuable hours.

The first Saturday – three days after he and Dave had come clean with their relationship – had featured _Brokeback Mountain_.

The second Saturday proved to be even worse, with Kurt convinced that his skin had burnt itself into a few shades darker throughout the first ten minutes of _I Love You, Phillip Morris._

On the third Saturday he had decided that enough was enough and told his father firmly that, if he was so intent on broadening his horizons, then _Kurt_ would get to choose the movie, the snacks and get to bring a friend.

His "friend" turned out to be Dave, of course. Burt settled for making grumbled resigned sounds while Carole cooed occasionally at their adorableness. Kurt and Dave entertained themselves with shooting popcorn at Finn's gaping mouth, snickering as he snored all the way through _Were The World Mine._

Kurt thought his father's mind track was turning out painfully obvious, never mind the random appearances of brightly wrapped condoms around the house.

Kurt often wondered if he ought to tell his dad that Dave and him, aside from being each other's firsts in almost everything – or so Kurt hoped they would be –, still weren't at a stage where that kind of insurance was obligatory.

And then, he thought, maybe not. What Burt didn't know couldn't hurt him, be it knee-length sweaters or his son's sexual exploits.

But that still brought to mind how much he would love his dad's worst fears to become reality and how much his boyfriend had been hindering those same plans. He had tried to hint to Dave that he would be more than agreeable to them getting to know each other sans meddling layers of fabric, but Dave seemed not to get it, even batting away every attempt from Kurt to just rip off his shirt already.

Kurt's obsession with Dave's width and strength, not to mention the peeks he had managed to get at Dave's chest hair – the whole thing had come to critical levels. This time around he was taking out the big guns.

He had plans. And back-up plans, and back-up plans to his back-up plans, and he would be shopping for his fall wardrobe at a backyard sale before he let Dave frustrate them again.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you called the right person?"<p>

"… hi, Blaine."

"Kurt!"

"Honestly, I _do _call you."

"This demands celebration. Let me get my party hat."

"I call you a lot more than most mentally sound people call their exes."

"And a cake. We should have a cake."

"Bye, now."

"No, don't go! Kurt!"

"For the love of all ungodly things. _Blaine._"

"Hello, Kurt. It's so nice to talk to you, Kurt."

"Must you?"

"It's so good to hear your voice, Kurt. Kurt. Kurt. I haven't said your name in a while."

"Are you _high_?"

"Kuuurt."

"Oh my god, are you _drunk_? Blaine, you know what that does to you."

"Will you have dirty, kinky phone sex with me if I am?"

"… I should warn you that you're on speaker phone, and that Dave is here with me."

"Oh. Oh, crap. Oh, _fuck_, shit, I'm sorry, you know I was just kidding, tell him I was just kidding, oh _crap_, David, I'm sorry, that's not something Kurt and I – I mean, we don't –"

"That was _fun_."

"Really, Kurt, tell him – oh. He's not really there, is he."

"He might be one day, if you keep propositioning me."

"When did you turn into this much of a cold-blooded fiend?"

"I have saved all the sparkly, pleasant aspects of my personality for my boyfriend. Sorry about that."

"You've been holding out on me all this time, haven't you?"

"Oh, you have no idea."

"And David gets all the good stuff, hum?"

"More, if possible."

"You're _so_ smitten."

"Unfortunate, but true."

"Are you kidding me? Kurt, you're in love with your boyfriend, who seems to be as pathetically in love with you back, how can you even –"

"I –"

"Is there something wrong?"

"… no. No, there's… no."

"Oh-oh."

"_What_?"

"I see. So _that_'s why you're calling."

"I have no idea what –"

"Come on, out with it."

"I love him."

"Now you're just being redundant."

"_Exactly_. Exactly, you get it. It's not as if I'm particularly good at hiding what I feel, either, I've never been. And with _him_, god –"

"Okay, it got awkward now that you've elevated your ex-bully over your ex-mentor in the affectionate department."

"Bite me."

"And he's even adding to your vocabulary. I'm jealous."

"He's right, you _are_ annoying."

"Kurt."

"I –"

"Out with it."

"I – I do love him, but he won't let me say it. And that's awful, but I get it, I know why he does it. But he won't let me see him naked either, and _that _I don't get, and –"  
>"Whoa!"<p>

"And I really, really, _really _want to, god, do I, it's all I think about lately. I've never felt like such a guy in all my life and I don't like it much but it's not as if I can help it, is it, have you _seen _him –"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!"

"I – I'm sorry."

"You– hum. That's… interesting. Is he really – his clothes are very bulky. I might need some description."

"Blaine."

"Kurt."

"Weren't you seeing someone?"

"It's complicated. And you owe me."

"Excuse me?"

"You broke up with your caring, extremely good-looking boyfriend just so that you could give way to your deep dwelling desires."

"Wasn't his name… Terence? Terry? Where is he?"

"Complicated. So spill."

"Ugh, now that you mention it… his _clothes_. I hate his clothes. If I could I would light a pyre with them and perform dance rites around it all night."

"I can think of a whole other kind of rites you might want to perform."

"Blaine!"

"Kurt!"

"Why do I even call you?"

"Because you're itching to have my go-ahead on some crazy plan you've been working on to get into Karofsky's pants."

"I'll let you know I _have_ been there, thank you very much."

"What's stopping you from ripping them off, then?"

"Hmpf. He _is _much stronger than me, and he obviously doesn't want me to – but I don't get _why_."

"Well, maybe he's embarrassed."

"Of who, me? Honestly, Blaine."

"No, look –"

"Why _would_ he be? He knows perfectly well he has no reason to be embarrassed."

"Really?"

"I'm very… obvious about how I feel about his body."

"Kurt Hummel, notorious sex kitten. Wonders never cease."

"He is very inspiring."

"And now I feel inadequate."

"Oh, get off it."

"I try to. See, this is where living vicariously through you comes in handy."

"You. Pervert."

"Anyhow. You should talk to him. Reassure him that you love his body exactly as it is and whatnot."

"'_Exactly as it is_'? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, he's – he's very… _large_."

"He's… are you honestly calling my boyfriend _fat_?"

"I said large. I wouldn't say fat – maybe chubby? Just a little bit. He does clean up nicely."

"…"

"Kurt? Kurt, I didn't mean to be offensive, I only –"

"Oh. My. God."

"What?"

"Oh god. Blaine, I need you to do me an enormous favor."

"You're scaring me now. What is it?"

"I need you to come over to my house and punch me as hard as you can."

"Ouch. Why would I do that?"

"Because I'm an idiot. I'm a thoughtless, inapt, insensitive idiot and I should get my just deserts."

"Why is that?"

"I remembered. I – I know why he's being so difficult about this and it's all my fault."

"Lost me, now."

"When he kissed me, you remember, when you badgered me to confront him – "

"I was trying to help!"

"Yes, you had better steer clear of that particular subject around him. He has very strong objections to you in general, but that one takes the punch."

"And I had very strong objections to him shoving you around."

"… touché. I'm better off keeping you apart, then."

"Mm-hmm. But what was that about the kiss?"

"Well, I did confront him. And I said a bunch of things, and I don't remember a tenth of it, but – I called him chubby, Blaine. And not only that. I think I said something about his hair, that he was having a bad hair day, maybe?"

"God, Kurt, how could you. He was just being his lovely violent-asshole self around you. I think you stepped on a line there, big time."

"Don't. I'm not saying I didn't have my reasons, but he has done his utmost to earn my forgiveness and I didn't even _remember_."

"Go on."

"And I don't think I really meant any of those things – only in as much as I meant that he wasn't my type, but that was _then_."

"Are you sure? Sounds to me like you're projecting just a tiny little bit."

"… shut up. It's only logical. I mean, it's not like he had a body transplant, and with the way he gets me going _now_, like no one else ever– "

"No, Kurt, stop, you're too kind."

"Oh."

"You were saying?"

"God, Blaine. I'm sorry."

"You're allowed to voice your opinion. It's still a somewhat free country, after all."

"No, this doesn't work. I just – I needed to think and talk this whole thing through. With Dave I can't get a clear perspective and I get distracted so easily and… there's really no one else, but this is selfish – and unfair to you, of course. I only thought that, since you had someone else, it wouldn't matter so much."

"It's like I told you. Complicated."

"I'm really sorry."

"Stop it. I guess I haven't been the most considerate and sensitive of friends to you, either."

"Hmm."

"Yes, that sums it up nicely. Anyway. I'm a big boy now, so –"

"Figuratively?"

"Does the free-to-punch-you offer still stand?"

"You should have snatched it up while you could."

"I see."

"Oh, fine. Your height is a lovely average and all the others are freaks."

"Including your boyfriend?"

"My boyfriend is a huge freak. Oh, hum."

"… what?"

"He is a freak. He is a _huge_ freak."

"Yes, you've already – wait. Oh. Huh. Really?"

"Mm-hmmm."

"Congratulations are in order, then – I guess?"

"Very much so. I haven't seen _it_ yet, due to that whole thing with his clothes being obnoxiously _always_ there. But it scared me a little the first time I, hum. You know. Still does, actually."

"Why would it – unless you're thinking of – _oh_."

"Not – not now. But. Yes. One day. I've thought about it often enough."

"That's really… really good, Kurt. I'm happy for you. So much for romance, huh?"

"We have plenty of romance, thank you very much."

"Before or after the heavy-petting sessions?"

"Rude. I know I used to think it was all about the big swooping gestures, but… just the way he _looks _at me sometimes, or touches me, I – it makes me feel wined and dined, and danced and serenaded all at once. Did I ever tell you what he did on our first date?"

"_Yes_."

"… oh. Sorry, I'm one of those, aren't I?"

"Obnoxiously happy in love? _Yeah_. But it's okay. They give you a free pass during your first month."

"Oh, goodie,"

"And, well, if you really feel like that then you should show him."

"Do you think he'll get naked if I do?"

"Oh my God, Kurt, what has he done to you and where can I get more of the same?"

"Mine, bitch."

"Hmm. Well, he's not really my type, either, so there."

"Urgh, stop that, I remembered something else."

"What?"

"I said he was sweaty."

"That makes sense… doesn't it? He _is _a jock, so I guess that's normal. And no one likes B.O."

"…"

"Kurt?"

"… is it weird if _I _do? I mean, not B.O. per se. He doesn't have a lot, since he always showers – unlike other teenage jocks that sleep in the room next to mine and shall remain nameless for the time being. But I've had dinner at his house a couple of times now and there was this one time when he had just come from summer practice and he _was_ all sweaty and hot and… _hot_."

"…"

"Blaine. I don't like the noises you're making with your nose and the air that goes through it at intervals. I don't like them one bit."

"I'm sorry, but you shouldn't come out and say things like that to people, Kurt."

"You said he wasn't your type."

"So did you."

"Point. But still. Back. Off."

"Moving on. What happened?"

"I don't know if I should be telling you this. You sound wheezy."

"I'm a little asthmatic."

"No you're not."

"_Ku-urt. _Vicarious fun, remember?"

"I try not to."

"So there was sweat and rising body temperature…"

"Right. Well. I might have molested him a little before he got in the shower."

"A little?"

"… maybe a little more like a lot?"

"You shouldn't be allowed to prowl the streets this unbalanced. I'm starting to get scared _for_ him."

"He wasn't what you'd call unwilling."

"I'll bet."

"God. I _am _a stereotype, aren't I?"

"Just one more stereotypical teenage boy, perhaps. And there's nothing wrong with that. But what about the touch of fingertips?"

"His hands are fabulous. I love his fingertips. Everywhere."

"…"

"Stop it. I feel like someone high-jacked my brain sometimes."

"Not, it's good, it's all good. Sorry I laughed."

"Hmpf."

"So, what is your plan to leave him bare and begging on his knees for you?"

"…"

"Ha-ha."

"… you did that on purpose."

"Can't say I didn't. Come on, Kurt, calming breaths."

"Stop mocking my fragile state."

"I wouldn't dare. You know all my ticklish spots."

"… right. Well, now that I _think _I know what's wrong, I can fix it. And I will."

"You're awfully committed, aren't you?"

"Blaine, this is the guy who looks at me like I'm the best part of his day, _everyday._ And that generally makes me distracted and complacent, but no more. He won't even know what hit him."

"Code mission: Sexify?"

"Yes. And I intend to do a lot better than you."

"Hey, I did my best. How was I supposed to know that –"

"Telling me to be sexy while performing for a bunch of giggling schoolgirls, watching you flirt with each and every one of them in a way that I still hoped was reserved to _me, _and, to top it off, asking my _dad_ to give the guy that has the most pathetic crush on you a _sex talk_. Because I was so utterly incompetent when it came to anything remotely sexual. How on earth were you supposed to know that might be a bad idea."

"You're making me sound like a jerk. You know I never meant to –"

"I _know_. I dated you Blaine. I always knew you never did any of that on purpose."

"Then why –"

"But I think I deserve someone who won't even think of doing it. Someone who can – I don't even know what he does, or if he even _does _anything, but… He deserves the same from me."

"Point taken. For the record, I always thought you were incredibly cute."

"You're a darling. Can I ask you a favor?"

"I'm not hitting you, Kurt. I draw the line at overly violent displays of violence, unlike some."

"Nice, Blaine. I was just about to ask you come over tomorrow and help me choose my outfit, but if you're gonna be like that…"

"Oh, do I get to see you naked?"

"Blaine!"

"Kurt!"

"Where was this enthusiasm when we were dating, honestly."

"Sorry. It's –"

"Complicated?"

"A little bit."

"Hmm. Well, I'll burn my new feathered hat before I let you see me naked when my boyfriend still hasn't gotten to, but we can compromise. Pick out something that leaves him unresponsive long enough for me to undress him fully and I'll give you… arms."

"Please. Mid-thigh, or we're done."

"Calves."

"_And _arms?"

"_Fine_."

"Score!"

"God, you're weird."

"Not everyone has an overly enthusiastic boyfriend, you know."

"Not overly. Just enough."

"Gah."

"Keep going and all you'll get to see is my middle finger."

"I'll take that into consideration tomorrow. Goodbye, my male provider of half-nakedness."

"… I have a really bad feeling about this."

"…"

"Hum. Did I remember to tell you that Dave will be here afterwards?"

"…"

"Hmm."

"…"

"…"

* * *

><p>"Practical."<p>

"Oh, shut up."

Blaine smiled smugly and spun the chair around playfully.

"This is about seduction."

"Easy access, Kurt, easy access."

"But…" Kurt glanced mournfully at his planned outfit, then back up at Blaine, frowning.

"You said I looked good in that."

"Of course you do. It's a skill you have, of looking good in _whatever_. But you should be aiming to feel fabulous like _this_." Blaine jumped up and spread his hands, encompassing Kurt's scantily clad torso. He strode over to the bed picking up a creamy light sweater with a loose collar that Kurt usually saved for spring-cleaning.

"You have to be – "

"Trust me."

"_No_."

"He won't be able to keep his hands of you, I promise."

Kurt scoffed and batted the shirt away with a sneer. Blaine laughed and fake-stepped to Kurt's right then lunged and start forcing the sweater over his head, using his strength against Kurt's height and grabbing his hands with one of his own. Kurt spluttered, half-naked body twisting in a way Blaine couldn't help but find alluring. He hadn't thought of Kurt in anywhere near to these terms in so long, so it was a little alarming, all things considered.

But what Kurt (and Dave) didn't know couldn't hurt him (and Blaine), could it?

The fabric suddenly muffled Kurt's protests when the sweater covered his head completely. Blaine was taking his sweet time watching him struggle when he was plummeted out of his amused yet surprisingly interested stupor by a distinctly forced cough behind him. He turned quickly, his mental flight-mode alarm flaring up as he took in David Karofsky's menacing expression and even more menacing heavy bulk.


	3. Hanging From The Silence

**Author's Note:** I honestly meant to get this out here faster, but RL and the weirdest kind of writer's block happened. Still, I'm having a lot of fun with this sequel; it got away from me a bit, but I'm pretty sure I can squeeze all I still want to write in the next – and last – chapter.

* * *

><p>"B-Blaine! It's the wrong side, you idiot, I can't – Take it off!"<p>

Blaine was vaguely aware of words being uttered behind him, but the muffled groans of one extremely disgruntled Kurt were doing nothing for him aside from causing his panic levels to rocket. Dave was still standing between him and the door and that was quite the predicament.

"The. Hell."

Blaine would really love to be somewhere, anywhere _else_ right now, please.

"Dave?" squeaked Kurt.

Blaine could hear the aggravation in his ex's voice; he smiled tentatively up at Dave, trying hard to telepathically convey "he hates my guts in a totally unsexy way, move along, nothing to see here, really, ours is the model of platonic relationships".

Dave seemed downright unimpressed by this attempt and kept on looking between one boy and the other with a deep frown.

"What are you–"

"Urgh!" groaned Kurt, finally managing to push his head through the right end and appearing before them flushed red and messy-haired – a little too debauched for Blaine's liking at this particular moment. His eyebrows rose spectacularly as he took in the Warbler's contorted face and high-strung body, and then switched to his boyfriend's incredulous and more than a little pissed-off face.

"Oh, for the _love_," Kurt hissed under his breath. He shook his head at both of them, utterly unimpressed, and then glanced to the side, evaluating his outfit on his wall mirror.

_Not too bad, not too bad by half. _

The dark faded skinnies had been his own choice but he had definitely not expected that the dingy little sweater he had never given a second thought to would look as flattering as it did, dropping casually off one shoulder and hugging his hips quite nicely. He made a mental note to thank Blaine some other time – preferably when his ex didn't look like he'd found sewer rats in his toilet in the worst possible of ways.

Kurt looked back at the odd pair and tilted his head, smiling approvingly at Dave's choice of shirt. He did love his boyfriend in red, but there was something about that olive-green combined with his eyes and that blush that always came up under Kurt's appreciative gaze that made Dave look extra fuc–_kissable_.

Kurt cleared his throat, blinking in surprise at the elbow curve his thoughts had swerved onto. He let his eyes travel down, unconsciously licking his lips as he noticed that Dave had chosen yet another pair of his conveniently baggy jeans, the ones that let Kurt work his hand inside so easily and –

_Not the best thing to have on your mind when your can't-take-a-hint ex-boyfriend is still hovering._

Kurt braced himself and turned to Blaine, smiling as sweet and gratefully as he could while still trying to block the flood of unwholesome fantasy-images of Dave spread out naked in his bed, lovely olive-green shirt and offensive jeans discarded across his floor.

"Point goes to you on this one, Blaine. Thank you _so _much."

Blaine nodded jerkily, lips twitching oddly. Kurt frowned slightly.

"Well, I guess we're done here, then." Blaine still wasn't moving; his eyes were fixed on Kurt, pleading. "Hum. Didn't you have that _thing_ you – at home? I'll call you one of these days so that we can check out the Lima Bean's new competition, okay?"

Blaine made a strangled noise, his body swaying alarmingly as he turned to Dave in a flash.

"Not a date, it's just something we do, we drink all the new samples and make them think we wanna be regulars, but we don't, not really, because the Lima Bean is our thing –" there his voice broke with a squeaking sound causing him to get progressively more high-pitched as he went on – "not that we _have_ a thing, or need a thing, it's just a friends thing, but it could be _your_ thing, I can drink coffee at home and you and Kurt can –"

"Blaine, what the hell," whispered Kurt in awe. Dave's eyebrows were scrunched up together in a straight line, but there was an odd tick in his jaw; Kurt couldn't decide if it was anger or soon to become overwhelming laughter.

" – go there anytime you want and I'll _never_ be there, he just needs to call me – or, or text me, or no, look, I won't go there ever, and I shouldn't be here at all, should I?" Blaine looked between Kurt and Dave despairingly. They both looked back, equally dumbstruck. "But he needed advice, and I wanna be a good friend, but friends don't check each other out," he blanched and looked ready to save Dave the effort of throttling him, "but he's really _pretty_, and it _is_ complicated and I'm under a lot of pressure, you have no idea, it's all very messed up, but please, can I go lie down very still on the highway now, please?"

Blaine was breathing heavily, eyes too large; Kurt reached out to steady him but he jumped back, staring at Dave as if terror-struck.

Kurt was deeply torn between breaking down in undignified giggles and calling an ambulance; then Dave stepped forward and he was very suddenly and shockingly apprehensive. But Dave was shaking his head and covering his mouth with his hand as if hiding a grin, and Kurt had never felt more guilty or more in love in his entire life.

"Dude. Chill, okay?" The jock smiled placidly at his boyfriend's jumpy ex. "And, you know, run along. We've got some _pressing_ matters to attend to," he said with a wink back at Kurt, who really couldn't help the amused grin splitting his face in two even as he glared at Dave.

"I _will_ call you later, Blaine, now could you please –" he started, smiling apologetically.

Then Dave cleared his throat once more and that was apparently the last straw for Blaine's frayed nerves. The Warbler hiccupped and ran out the door without even a last glance for Kurt.

Kurt stared after him shaking his head in dismay until he felt a tug on his sleeve; as he turned he found himself safely enclosed in strong arms, his nose inches from the soft tempting skin on the hollow of his boyfriend's neck. He leaned forward, trapping himself willing against Dave's chest and nuzzled the patch of skin where the stubble was already growing out.

"You smell good," he murmured, snaking his arms up Dave's own, palming broad shoulders with eager hands and resting them around the strong neck.

"Think that's my line," said Dave, his voice muffled by Kurt's hair.

Kurt chuckled, pressing butterfly kisses up Dave's half-exposed collarbone. He let his eyes flutter closed when he felt Dave shivering under his lips, the jock's solid body pressing closer and closer until there was no more air or thoughts between them.

"Dave?" Kurt asked after a few beats of silence.

"Yeah?"

"Would it be to much to ask for you to stop traumatizing Blaine?"

Dave snorted, his lips skimming over Kurt's hairline.

"That depends."

"On _what_?"

"On how many more times am I gonna come in here to find him pawing all over you."

Kurt gasped in outrage and pretended to try squirming away, but Dave only laughed and strengthened his hold. Kurt huffed, punching weakly at Dave's chest.

"He did nothing of the kind."

"You _heard_ him. He was totally checking you out. With his hands." Dave kissed Kurt's temple and sighed. "Fucking hate handsy guys."

"I don't know, you seem quite handsy right now," teased Kurt, reaching up to pull his boyfriend's head down for a proper "it's all kinds of wonderfulto see you" kiss.

It was as slow and soft as they could allow themselves to kiss. What with all the plans he had for Dave that afternoon Kurt knew he was on a tight schedule; but there was something about _them_ that always seemed to slow time down time for him, something telling him to savor it, to treasure these sweet kisses before he lost control of his own actions with how immersed he always became in Dave.

He let his hands slide down to his boyfriend's hips, his thumbs caressing the skin just bellow the hem of Dave's t-shirt. Then Dave sighed quietly into the kiss and pulled away, giving Kurt the push he needed to recollect his plan.

"We should take this to the bed," he suggested with a quick nip to Dave's chin.

He saw the sudden glow in David's eyes and the beginnings of a nod, but then Dave looked down at Kurt's hands on his hips and seemed to shrink down, growing smaller and shyer with each shared heartbeat.

"Maybe we – what about a movie? Or I could teach you how to beat Finn at all of his videogames, or –"

"Or maybe we could bake!" Kurt's eyes widened in pretend innocence. "Gingerbread cookies are _fun_. Or you could help me re-decorate the basement properly. I refuse to leave it in Finn and my Dad's hands any longer." Dave frowned down at him, watching him cautiously. "Or, I don't know, we could re-paint my room and watch the paint dry while discussing the fabulous weather forecast for the week."

Dave shook his head with a knowing smile and bent his neck to kiss Kurt's pursed mouth. As always, the singer's resolve only took a hesitant touch of tongue to crumble, and Kurt's lips were quick to part, welcoming Dave gladly.

"So glad you got my point," he breathed into Dave's mouth when they finally broke away.

"Clear and loud, Fancy. You just want me around so you can get your jollies on a regular basis, I get that." Dave grinned and kissed the corner of Kurt's mouth that was already turning down into a frown. "You know I'm kidding, baby. Just don't want you thinking that's all I come here for."

"It's not like I really mind it either way," whispered Kurt, already starting to blush. He did sometimes wonder if their relationship was becoming too physical too fast as a reaction to all that time they'd spent chastely – well, almost – wooing each other.

But it was so much easier to pay attention to a movie plot or game controls when he felt sated and warm leaning against Dave's chest than before, when his skin always seemed too tight for his body, sizzling and pulsing at the spots where it had been touched by Dave. Laying in his bed under a thin blanket, the both of them too sluggish and heavy-limbed to do anything other than kiss lazily, talking quietly about everything and nothing when they felt like hearing the other's voices, or maybe just snuggling together, letting themselves drift off easily – Kurt had never known how sweet his life could be until he had allowed himself to have _this_.

It was cruel enough not being allowed to be affectionate with each other in public – and not only because of Dave's closeted status. When they'd gone to Columbus to enjoy themselves in tranquility, they still had only gone as far as holding hands. Kurt felt much too conscious of reproaching glares following them everywhere; he could see Dave tensing every few minutes and it made him feel vicious inside, resented towards the whole world for begrudging them such harmless happiness.

They had ended up going back to Lima much earlier than planned and had spent the rest of the afternoon holed up in Dave's room watching a musical marathon because Dave felt guilty – and then _Kurt_ had felt guilty for torturing him and they had spent the whole of Grease 2 rolling around in a heap of sweaty, complexly intertwined limbs.

It was the _sequel_ after all. No point in torturing himself as well.

The warmth of Dave's lips trailing over the exposed skin of his shoulder, and the hand bunching up the fabric of his sweater in an attempt at stealth brought him back from his thoughts.

"Oh no, you don't," he warned with a teasing smirk at Dave's pitiable whimper. He grabbed Dave's wrists and crisscrossed them between their chests. "We have five hours all to ourselves and I plan on making the absolute best of that time." He pressed a soft kiss to Dave's bottom lip. "Bed, Karofsky."

"Big plans, huh?" retorted David a little resentfully, but still trailing after Kurt obediently. Kurt threw him a secretive smile over his shoulder and brought one knee down on the bed.

Suddenly Dave was right there, whole body pressed warm and powerful against his back, arms wrapped possessively around his middle. Dave's lips had latched to the curve of his neck; his nibbling teeth along with the suction of his mouth were probably causing the kind of damage that Kurt would have to be very creative in order to cover up later. It felt much too good to be there, though; as good as held up in Dave's arms, head thrown back over his shoulder, body limp and pliable for Dave to use at his will – except for where he could feel the painful throb of his erection entrapped by the denim.

"Ugh, Dave…"

"Fuck, I could just eat you up, you know that?" Dave growled into the tender skin. "Gotta be careful with that body wash, and lotion, and whatever the fuck _frosting_ you rub all over yourself, 'cause one day I'm gonna lose my fucking mind, I swear to –"

"I didn't – I was planning on showering after Blaine and I decided on my outfit, but we took forever and then you got here and then –" Kurt whimpered and shook when one of Dave's hands clamped down on his still suffering cock.

"Could you – talking about Bland is not really a turn on for me, okay, so if you could just stop, I'd appreciate it, I'd be goddamn –" Dave thrust his own hard length against the curve of Kurt's ass, making him moan brokenly, twisting his head to get at Dave's mouth –" goddamn _thankful_, that's what I would be."

Kurt mumbled an assent mixed with a plea, rolling his hips back into Dave. He almost lost it completely when he heard the sound of his own zipper being pulled down.

"No, wait, Dave, just – wait, I don't –"

The fingers undoing his top button vanished, and so did the urgent pressure at his back. Dave's arm was still holding him against his chest, though, and he could hear and feel Dave's harsh breathing tickling softly at his earlobe. He rolled his eyes, suppressing the urge to pull Dave back onto him by the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

"I meant _slow down_ a little, not stop all works immediately." He shook his head, glaring at the quarter of Dave and himself that he could see in his wall mirror. "Honestly, you'd think I had pulled out a rape whistle."

Dave snorted derisively against the back of his neck and dropped a swift kiss on the top of his spine, making Kurt's eyes flutter closed at the sensation.

"Hilarious, Fancy. You'd rather I forced you?"

Kurt winced at the hurt tone and turned around in the safe circle of Dave's arms. Dave was staring down at him with darkened eyes, his mouth twisted sourly. There was a bead of sweat right between his eyebrows; Kurt had to stop himself from pushing up on his tiptoes to lick it off.

"Don't. Dave."

Dave looked away, his jaw tight.

"No. No, Dave, come on, look at me," Kurt pleaded, cupping Dave's cheek tenderly. He swallowed when Dave complied and couldn't help reaching up then, closing his eyes and letting his lips part slightly in a plea for a kiss. He clenched his fist on Dave's collar when a strong, desperate mouth pressed against his own.

When he opened his eyes slightly he found Dave gazing intensely down at him. Then those eyes he loved narrowed and he could feel the shape of a grin against his lips, which promptly made him melt into the kiss with a relieved sigh.

"C'me here," Dave panted into his ear, his teeth just grazing the outer shell, causing Kurt's knees to finally give out under him. Dave chuckled and hooked one arm around the back of Kurt's thighs, turning to sit down on the bed with Kurt's supple body draped over him. "See, I wouldn't have to _manhandle_ you everywhere if you moved your ass every once in a while."

Kurt scrunched up his nose in distaste, but the effect was ruined since his face was buried in the curve of Dave's neck; he settled for digging his nails into Dave's back revengefully.

"Urgh, shit. Kitty's got claws, uh?" The jock gripped Kurt's waist and started pulling him up; he scooted back until his back was leaning into the headboard and Kurt was tucked safely against his chest. "Baby?"

Kurt looked up with dark half-lidded eyes, his cheeks flushed a deep pink and his mouth slack and inviting; Dave swallowed and nodded curtly, pulling him closer and lowering his head slowly, savoring the sight. Then he felt the pads of Kurt's fingers against his lower lip, halting him with the softest pressure.

"Let me just –," his boyfriend started, his voice raspier than Dave was used to. "There was something I wanted – I needed –"

"Anything you want, baby."

Kurt shook his head, trying to clear the lust induced haze permeating his thoughts.

"No, you don't –" His hands clutched weakly at Dave's shirt and his eyes flew open, his goal taking up the front row in his mind again. "This. This needs to be off."

Dave smiled uneasily and touched Kurt's wrists gently, caressing the underside as a distraction. Kurt's fingers twitched reflexively but he kept his hold, settling more comfortably on Dave's thighs.

"You did say _anything_," tried Kurt, raking his nails up and down Dave's regretfully _still_ covered chest. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Dave's neck and nudged the stubbly cheek with his nose before sucking his boyfriend's bottom lip between his own. Dave whimpered, his hands running restlessly over Kurt's sides, never daring to pull the sweater up more than a few inches.

"Kurt –"

"Dave, you know – you have to know I lo–"

He never even saw it coming. Logically, he should be hearing his own words, since his lips and tongue were still working on them, but it all seemed to be thwarted by Dave's mouth pressed tight against his, his boyfriend's own lips matching Kurt's efforts flawlessly.

Kurt felt himself get dizzy, his head growing heavier and lighter alternately as Dave held him whole in his large hands, palming his way through his body, learning and remembering. For all Kurt's planning and conniving, Dave seemed to be the one always undressing him with how intimate his touch felt these days.

"You – you're not – this is not _fair_, David," he attempted to scold, but his voice was laced with raw desire, and his whole traitorous body had sided with Dave's intent, curving wantonly into the jock's sturdy frame. "You can't do this, you have to let me –"

Then he was being kissed again, thoroughly and _well_, with a fervor he couldn't fight against because, as it turned out, he simply did not _want _to. Kissing Dave was never something he could just deny himself, not even for the chance to stand equal with David when it came to their feelings for each other.

"God, you have no idea – Christ, what you do to me, always," murmured Dave reverently, his mouth pressing wet urgent kisses down Kurt's neck. "Can't stop thinking 'bout this, about _you_, all the time." He pulled away and cradled Kurt's flushed face in his hands, his eyes own eyes bright and wild. "You know that, right?"

"W-what?" stammered Kurt, utterly lost and more than a little dizzy with longing. His shaky hands seized the collar of Dave's shirt with the desperation of a drowning victim, his knees pressed tight like a vice around Dave's hips.

Dave smiled lovingly, stroking Kurt's blush with his thumbs.

"Know I love you. So fucking much."

Kurt scowled and grabbed hold of Dave's hair, smashing their mouths together with an angry clash of teeth. He sucked Dave's tongue into his mouth harshly, nipping at the tip lightly enough as to not cause much damage but still serving as a warning.

"Fuck!" Dave drew back, touching his tongue gingerly with two fingers and glaring at Kurt's smug face. "The fuck was that for?"

Kurt shrugged, raising one very unimpressed eyebrow.

"You brought it on yourself."

Dave made a face and pulled out his tongue, holding it between his thumb and forefinger and crossing his eyes to look down at it. Kurt's cold façade broke at that and he giggled, bringing his hand up to poke lightly at the injured flesh with a cautious finger. Dave's eyes flashed and he lunged forward, capturing the tip of Kurt's finger between his teeth carefully but firmly, drawing a shocked squeak out of his boyfriend.

"Let go," commanded Kurt, eyeing the strong teeth nervously.

Dave grinned around the digit and licked it slowly, watching Kurt's expression all the while. Kurt sucked in a breath and pushed his finger in farther, stroking the warm wetness curiously.

They locked eyes, their mingled breathing growing shallower with the passing seconds. Then Dave leaned forward slowly and wrapped his lips around the base of Kurt's long finger, sucking it whole into his mouth.

"_Dave_," gasped Kurt, his upper body thrashing uncontrollably.

Dave caught him around the waist with one muscular arm, pulling him close until their chests were flush against each other; then his hand closed around Kurt's wrist, securing his slack hand against his lips. He sucked harder, cheeks hallowing slightly, his tongue lapping at Kurt's finger hungrily, tasting the skin as if it were a rare delicacy.

Kurt's eyes widened comically as he took in what probably rated as the most erotic scene he had ever witnessed in his entire life. His boyfriend's face twisted in ecstasy; Dave's forearms and shoulders shining with a fresh sheen of sweat, that white tease of an undershirt clinging obscenely to his wet skin – no, not even those, _this_ was it. Dave's kiss-swollen lips were deadly tight around his finger, sucking him in with the eventual slurping noise that made Kurt shake as his painfully hard cock leaked profusely into his underwear.

"Oh god, Dave, Dave, you should stop, I – ahh –"

Dave's tongue swirled over the tip; his hand fell to Kurt's ass, squeezing roughly over the tight jeans. One of his thighs slid against Kurt's crotch with the clear intent of making Kurt's brain leak out of his ears with the liquid heat that was coursing though him.

"You don't know what you're – really, David, you don't, I'm –"

Dave smirked around his finger with a gurgling sound of laughter that told Kurt that his boyfriend knew _exactly_ what he was doing. The lovely friction against his straining erection increased, as did the wet-hot suction around his abused finger. Dave had trapped Kurt's hand between his mouth and Kurt's own shoulder, leaving both his hands free to knead his ass like denim enclosed bread dough, making him roll his hips into Dave's solid thigh again and again.

Kurt's head dropped onto Dave's shoulder, lolling from side to side as Dave dragged him up and down like a rag doll. Kurt could hear his breath coming out in short gasps punctuated with small _ah, ah_ noises. He could feel the string of saliva connecting his mouth to the side of Dave's neck.

"Oh god, oh my – Dave, _David_, god, so much, lo–"

He started crying when Dave's hand cupped his cheek so they could kiss properly; he felt the tears branding his skin, scalding hot and bittersweet. He felt the cool air hitting his spit-wet finger as he came in his pants inches away from Dave's own hardness.

His mouth slid away from Dave's reluctantly when he felt himself almost pass out from the lack of oxygen. He looked at Dave from beneath damp eyelashes and found his boyfriend smiling adoringly down at him; he felt Dave's lips on his face, kissing over tear tracks and his fingers combing back his sweat matted hair. Then he heard a whisper, hot and rough on the delicate skin of ear.

"Can't wait to try that for _real_."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Oh, _boys_.

I know I severely messed up Blaine's characterization in this one, but I'm not even sure who Blaine IS anymore. And the writers do it all the time, so yeah. I invoke the Rule of Funny.


	4. Tied Up To This Feeling

**A/N:** Four, she said.

Still, five is better than seven, right? *whimpers* I promise, only one more to go.

* * *

><p>Kurt awoke to the sound of drums.<p>

He had half a mind to just roll over and go black to his blissful sleep, cursing Finn's hyperactivity on his way into La-La land. However, his body-pillow felt inordinately comfy at the moment and the drumming was actually quite pleasant – which immediately alerted him to the fact that he had never come around to buying that body-pillow after all and that Finn was supposed to be spending his day at Rachel's for a long bonding-and-relationship-healing session with her dads. He felt around for a clue as to what he might be lying on, his eyelids too heavy to properly do their job; he could sense a heady warmth and the relative softness of a cotton and polyester blend. Then his fingertips hit a barrier of what felt like coarse denim; he hesitated between jumping over it or going underneath; he splayed his fingers taking note bristly hair and soft, soft, soft skin, hot as a furnace; he buried his hand as far as it would go.

The earthquake began immediately; Kurt dug his elbows into the pillow, trying to keep himself afloat. A rumbling sound, as pleasant as the drums, reached his ears; but now he was being pried off his heavenly nest by the rippling of after-shocks.

"Don't go starting anything you can't finish, Fancy."

Kurt smiled, rubbing his cheek against the solid plane of his boyfriend-shaped pillow. He thought he would have actually purred if there were less fabric between his and Dave's skin.

"I always finish what I start," he drawled, squinting up at Dave's face. "And then I do it again. And again. And then one more time for good luck."

"Making sense is overrated, huh?

Kurt huffed and rolled over, climbing onto Dave's chest and plastering himself on top of his boyfriend, all the while ignoring the half-hearted protests about careless knees and elbows coming from under him. He peered down, grinning goofily, his mind still running on the sweet sense-memory of his latest orgasm.

"I hereby claim this land for Kurt E. Hummel," he proclaimed in a lofty tone, planting his chin down hard on Dave's breastbone.

"And where, might I enquire, is your flag, oh ye mighty explorer?" teased Dave, gazing at Kurt's bed mussed hair as if pondering whether he could get away with ruffling it a bit more. Kurt had thought it must be that, since he suddenly had gentle yet strong fingers burying into his hair and pressing down pleasantly on his scalp. He pondered whether he should kick Dave's calf viciously, but the fingers felt _good_.

Dave always felt so good.

"I got your fla-ag right in here," he sing sung, thrusting his hips down before dissolving in giggles, his face mashed into Dave's shoulder.

"I'm just gonna ignore that for the sake of this relationship, okay, 'cause I don't think I can keep dating you if you start throwing shit like that around," Dave said in a mournful tone. His fingers were still running through Kurt's hair steadily; he pressed his thumb to the smooth skin behind Kurt's ear, caressing the spot that never failed to make Kurt shudder and sigh contentedly.

He stroke down Kurt's broad back with his other hand, making him stretch out his legs and undulate in pleasure on top of him, just like a shamelessly spoiled cat.

"Don't you love me despite my minute failings, _David_?" whined Kurt, pouting exaggeratedly. He arched his back up into Dave's lovely large hand, tilting his head slightly so that Dave's fingers could reach around his head.

Dave rolled his eyes and bent his neck awkwardly to press a chaste kiss to the tip of Kurt's nose; the fake pout to melted away instantly, leaving an adoring smile in its stead.

"You know I do," he said, his voice low and rough with honesty.

Kurt propped himself up on his elbows and sat up, straddling his boyfriend's middle with familiar ease. Dave's brow furrowed but he mirrored Kurt's position when prompted, leaning against the headboard with his hands falling automatically to the top of Kurt's spread thighs.

Kurt watched him attentively, his fingers coming up to straighten the other boy's collar first, then smoothing out the front of his shirt, then finally settling on the side of his neck, caressing his pulse point absent-mindedly.

"Baby?"

He breathed in slowly and gave Dave a reassuring smile, knowing he was about to ruin its effect completely with his next words.

"We need to talk."

Dave's whole body tensed immediately under him, his hands jerking reflexively over Kurt's thighs before sliding off to fall limply onto the bedspread. His jaw was wound up so tight that Kurt thought he might actually cause some teeth damage; his eyes were pleading, but resigned, and Kurt knew then how overdue that particular conversation was.

He leaned forward, kissing the hard line of Dave's mouth softly; his hands took hold of Dave's own by the wrists, bringing them to rest on his thighs again. Dave whimpered beneath him, his lips parting almost reluctantly; Kurt hesitated before drawing back. He would not let himself get sidetracked again.

"That's such an awful sentence, isn't it?" he mused, drawing random patterns with his fingertips on the back of Dave's hands.

"Kurt –"

"You _do_ love me, don't you Dave?"

Dave stared at him, looking for the world as if Kurt had just struck him.

"Don't you – you fucking well _know_ I love you, you –"

"Good," said Kurt gently, nipping Dave's rant in the bud. "Then answer me, will you?"

"What –"

"Why won't you let _me_?"

Dave stared at him bemusedly. Then comprehension dawned on his face and he let out a shuddery breath.

"Christ, Fancy, don't do this to me. What, you think this is funny, scaring the fucking hell out of me like that, _fuck_." He ran a hand over his face; then he reached for the back of Kurt's neck, pulling him forward and crushing their mouths together in a bruising, frantic kiss.

Kurt frowned into it, pushing weakly against Dave's chest. He was to close to one more fatal distraction; he had prepared himself for this very probable possibility but then Dave had come out of nowhere with _finger-sucking_. It had never even ranked as a turn-on for Kurt, but god, every time he flexed his hand or brushed that particular finger against any part of Dave he could feel Dave's mouth on him again, his tongue so soft and _wet_, the catch of teeth, the ribbed surface of the top of Dave's mouth, the hungry suction – and in no time he was lost in kissing Dave, grinding his hips down wantonly. A long drawn-out moan escaped him when Dave's hands slipped between his legs and started kneading his inner thighs, spreading him wider, open to Dave's greedy, _marvelous_ touch. Dave's mouth slid over his cheek wetly; he licked down Kurt's jaw, humming in appreciation when Kurt's head fell back, leaving his neck bare and vulnerable. Dave nosed behind his ear, inhaling sharply, then sucked Kurt's earlobe between his teeth, biting down only as a tease, but Kurt shivered feverishly and whined out a plea, his hands clutching feebly at the back of Dave's head.

The sound of his own voice, high and needy as it was, brought him back to himself as fast as if he had just been doused in cold water from head to toe.

"Dave, _stop_," he whispered, quiet enough to allow Dave to ignore it and keep up his dedicated ravishing.

Dave pulled away immediately, with only one last sweet kiss to Kurt's heated skin. There was a ghost of a sad smile on his face, as if he knew exactly what was coming; Kurt felt like he had rather dumpster-dive himself than force Dave into this conversation, but then it would be better to do it now and get it over with than let the issue grow into something destructive.

"You don't get –", the jock started with a sigh.

"I do." Kurt sat up straighter, cupping his boyfriend's face with his hands, forcing Dave to face him. "I _do_, Dave, I – Not at first, but I do now." One of his hands slid down the strong jaw to rest on the bend of Dave's neck. "Remember after we – the first time we –" He looked down, a proud, adoring smile teasing the corners of his lips. "_Our_ first time. I tried to tell you when we woke up, but you wouldn't let me. You're lucky I was so out of it, or you wouldn't have gotten away easy with how mad I was at you."

Dave frowned as he pulled Kurt closer to him; the slighter boy went willingly but turned his face away when Dave tried to pull him in for another kiss.

"Baby –"

"Let me just – I'll tell you my theory, yes? And then you can't tell me if I'm completely off, or if I – if I'm right."

Kurt stared at Dave expectantly, letting out an anxious breath when his boyfriend gave him a tiny reluctant nod.

"Okay. Okay, then. Well." He chuckled awkwardly when Dave raised his eyebrows. "I need to – before I tell you, I need you to know that, if I'm right, then you're wrong. You're so very wrong, Dave," he said earnestly, stroking his boyfriend's neck with gentle fingers.

"Yeah, well, you haven't told me yet, so –"

"It's Blaine," Kurt rushed out, feeling the immediate urge to smack himself when Dave's face closed off, his eyes dark and distant. "Only it isn't, not really, is it? It's me – or it _was_ me."

Dave watched him curiously, his body relaxing slightly under Kurt.

"I would take it back if I could, Dave." He shook his head, rolling his eyes at himself while Dave smirked, pressing his thumb into Kurt's skin just bellow the hem of his sweater. "Ugh. And _that_ is the problem, isn't it? That I would, that I _could_, because I didn't really mean it at the time, because it wasn't real for me and Blaine, and you're afraid –" The pressure of Dave's hand on his hip increased. "You're afraid we might not be real for me, either."

"Kurt –"

"Please. Please, Dave, I need you to let me, _please_."

"Don't."

"But I _do_! I know I do, I know my feelings, you can't do this –" Kurt grimaced when his voice broke. He could feel the wetness pooling at the corner of his eyes.

"Baby. Baby, love, Kurt, _Kurt_," Dave whispered heatedly, kissing Kurt's trembling lips firmly and unyielding.

Kurt sobbed into his mouth, disgusted at himself for being so weak when it came to Dave loving him, and never strong enough to love Dave like he deserved.

"Love you, love you so much, of fucking course it's _real_, you'd have to be an idiot not to see that –"

"You told me I was an idiot before, remember?" Kurt sniffed discreetly, hiding his face in Dave's shoulder. "Several times."

"Yeah, but that was –"

"I _am_. I know I am. A complete idiot for letting you walk around thinking that I'm not as deep in this as you are, that I could just walk away at any second and not be _wrecked_, that what I had with Blaine will ever measure up with what we have. I am an idiot, Dave, but then so are you, because I was never any good at hiding my feelings and I can't believe you'd be stubborn enough to deny what is so obvious."

Dave scoffed, twisting away until there was more space between them.

"Yeah, obvious. Know what's also obvious? How easy you had it dumping Blaine's ass just because you felt _horny_."

Kurt gasped incredulously, his eyes bulging out.

"You – I can't believe you!"

"You're gonna tell me it wasn't like that?"

"Yes!" Kurt held himself back, restraining the urge to just shake some sense into his boyfriend. "I didn't break up with Blaine because I wanted you. I broke up with Blaine because I didn't love him like you should love your boyfriend, because I loved him only as a friend and yes, it did take knowing you, and liking you, and wanting _you –_" Kurt paused, flushed and out of breath. "It did take _you_ for me to realize how I truly felt, but you can't just hang it over my head for the rest of our lives, it's not fair, I'm not –" he was cut off abruptly when Dave surged up suddenly, grasping Kurt's face and pulling him into one desperate kiss.

Kurt struggled feebly before giving in, wrapping himself around Dave again and giving back as good as he got. Dave groaned into his mouth making Kurt squirm with white-hot pleasure, holding onto Dave so tight he feared he might snap the other boy in two. Then Dave squeezed his shoulder as a warning before pulling back, their mouths releasing each other with a wet, shocked sound; there was a new glow to Dave's eyes that made it up for Kurt, a raw sort of expression on his face that Kurt was either too scared or too hopeful to take apart.

"Sorry about that," said Dave finally, giving him a small, embarrassed smile. "I know you didn't mean it like that, you'd be crazy to, and it's not like I think –" He swallowed when Kurt just stared back, his mouth open in leftover astonishment. "You said 'the rest of our lives' and it sounded – it's fucking stupid, I know, c'mon, I'm not crazy, okay? But it just – I couldn't help myself. I – sorry."

Kurt grinned in relief and kissed Dave's cheek.

"It's not stupid. _I_ said it, didn't I? It's not like I'm planning a ceremony here, but I've thought of it. When I think of my future, it's still so vague, but it's there and you – I try not to dwell on it too much, I'm not _Rachel_, but you –you're there, too." Kurt shrugged, trying for a nonchalance that disintegrated as soon as Dave beamed at him; and there was that gorgeous full-on happy grin that still made Kurt's heartbeats speed up so unhealthily. "Crazy would be _not_ thinking of it, not wanting someone who you lo–," he stopped himself as soon as Dave started to move forward, " – someone for whom you have so many feelings for there with you."

"Gee, Kurt, what about some space, we've only been dating for like, five seconds, and now you're practically getting down on one knee, Christ."

Kurt raised an eyebrow, nonplussed.

"Who said anything about marriage? I fully intend on keeping you chained in my basement day and night, always ready to satisfy my every need."

Dave's grin only grew wider at that.

"Sex slave to Kurt Hummel, huh? Heard of worst fates than that," he teased, bending his neck to suck a red mark under Kurt's jaw. He smiled into the abused flesh when Kurt's hand buried in his hair, tugging it sharply as he arched into Dave with a long, shuddery breath.

"And you'd perform as you ought, I'm sure," said Kurt shakily. "Adequately enough, since I'm apparently unable to look past my deranged libido in order to form real emotional connections."

Dave winced and sighed; he drew back to drop a kiss on Kurt's tightly pursed mouth.

"That's not what I meant."

"It sure sounded like it, Dave."

"I don't want you ever regretting it," Dave says, voice low and intense. "Don't want you wishing you could take it back, don't want you calling some douche at two in the fucking morning 'cause you're panicking about your boyfriend tricking you into saying it." Kurt opened his mouth to protest, but Dave's pleading eyes made him think better of it. "Don't want you breaking up with me because you'd never cheat on anyone but you can't help yourself, and I don't want us to stay friends, and I don't want to go shopping with you and talk about guys and have the separate-beds kind of sleepovers _ever_, Kurt. I never want us to go back to being just friends, ever, you don't fucking know how it gutted me to know there could never be anything else, okay, so –"

This time Kurt kissed him. It seemed to be their go-to method to stop each other from talking themselves into very unpleasant mindsets – it also helped that Kurt enjoyed kissing Dave to an almost obsessive point.

"I _will_ gut you if you ever suggest we do a sleepover in separate beds," he whispered roughly into Dave's mouth, clutching the collar of his shirt in a tight fist.

Dave laughed quietly, nuzzling Kurt's cheek.

"Good to know."

"What can I do?" Kurt pulled back, his eyes as honest and serious as his tone. "To convince you. To prove it to you. I'll do _anything_, David, just tell me."

Dave sighed and shook his head.

"It's _my_ issue, baby. There's nothing you need to do. Nothing you can do, really," he added hastily when Kurt opened his mouth.

"You – you're _crazy_. You're telling me you'll simply refuse to let your boyfriend tell you he lo– how he really feels for you until you work through whatever _bullshit_ you obsessively thought yourself into?" asked Kurt incredulously, wondering if he should start enquiring discreetly into good therapists.

"Yes?" said Dave weakly, frowning worriedly.

"Oh my god, you're nuts. No, you're completely out of your mind, and it's _my_ fault, I just know it. I remember you being sensible; you need to stop spending time with me, and Finn, and Santana –" Kurt's eyes widened when Dave's increasingly terrified expression melted into barely repressed chuckles. "I'm serious, David! It's the glee club, it must be – it gets into your head, the insanity. Sometimes I wonder if we're all Bedlam inmates being forced into a shared-dream experience."

Dave dropped his head on Kurt's shoulders, his whole body shaking with laughter. Kurt petted his head warily, trying not to jostle him into some kind of crisis.

"Jesus, Kurt, I can't believe I'm saying this, but you gotta be right. I mean, fuck, is this even my life." He looked up, his laughter subsiding, and Kurt's breath caught at the undiluted warmth in his eyes. He leaned automatically into Dave's palm when it cradled his jaw.

"Hey, baby."

"Hey yourself," Kurt said, still a little cautious.

"Can you promise me something?"

Kurt had learned you must never disagree with a madman, but he had also learned never to walk blindly into any kind of agreement. It was a helpful rule, especially since Rachel had gained the dangerous habit of coming up with perplexing summer schemes and requesting for Kurt's help in much the same way as Dave was now. He gave his boyfriend an uncompromising diagonal nod.

"Promise me you won't say it. It's a lot of fun to stop you and try to shut you up, but if you really want to help me then –"

Kurt scoffed and raised one eyebrow, cutting Dave short.

"I will never promise you that, Dave." He tilted his head. "In fact, I'll do you one better. I will promise you that I'll say it _anytime_ I feel like it. Anytime you do something sweet, or kind, or wonderful. Every time I look at you, or touch you, or hear your voice, I'll say it. Loud and clear. You're welcome to try and stop it, since it _is_ fun, but I won't stop." He snaked his arms around Dave's neck, leaning forward until their breaths mingled. "I will _never_ stop. This _is_ your issue, and I'll do anything in my power to help you overcome this fear, but you can't ask me that. I am not that selfless."

They were eye to eye; Dave's own were wide and unblinking, vulnerable. Kurt smiled boldly and leaned his forehead against his boyfriend's.

"And _I_ will have lots of fun proving it to you."


End file.
